Over the Love
by Of Dragon Blood
Summary: Nearly two decades after Spike's been dumped by his sire Katherine Pierce, he returns to Mystic Falls to discover that there's a young woman named Elena Gilbert who looks exactly like Katherine, and that things are definitely not the way he left them.


**Disclaimer:** This story is told from the perspectives of Spike (BtVS) and Elena Gilbert (TVD). No infringement is intended; all rights belong to the brilliant Joss Whedon, L.J. Smith, Kevin Williamson, and Julie Plec. However, please note that there will be certain scenes taken from both series and rewritten to include these characters as needed. Additionally, all photos used of Nina Dobrev, James Marsters and anything else BtVS or TVD related belong to those parties and those parties alone.

* * *

 ** _London, 1880_**

* * *

"Luminous . . . _oh, no, no, no, no._ Irradiant's better."

Sitting on a plush linen chair in a darkened corner, William Pratt mulled over his usual pad of parchment, oblivious to everything else in the crowded room but the words filling his head. The fine, lush ivory pages of the journal his mother had recently gifted him were quite possibly his favorite thing in the world, next to the woman whom he was currently composing a poem for.

 _Cecily._ Cecily Addams was luminous, irradiant; the most beautiful woman he'd ever been lucky enough to clamp eyes on. She was the subject of his every composition; the inspiration behind every passage. There wasn't a woman in all of London who could match her grandeur, not in William's mind.

"Care for an hors d'oeuvre, sir?" A passing waiter offered, extending a silver tray filled with various finger foods. Indeed, William could tell from the fragrant smell wafting before him that the food was no doubt delicious, but he had no time for such indulgences.

"Oh, quickly!" He exclaimed, touching the end of his fountain pen to his bottom lip as he continued in a rather excited manner. "I'm the very spirit of vexation. What's another word for 'gleaming?'" Sensing the waiter's confusion, he went onto explain. "It's a perfectly perfect word as many words go, but the bother is, nothing rhymes, you see."

Offering him a patronizing smile, the waiter quickly ducked away with his tray in tow. Paying the gentleman no mind, William looked up just in time to witness Cecily gliding down the staircase a few feet away, her white gloved hand extended off towards another partygoer.

"Cecily . . . " He breathed, then glanced back down at his pad of parchment. Quickly jotting down the word he had been racking his mind for, he smiled. _Effulgent._ Yes, that was it. Finally satisfied, William stood, tucking his brand new masterpiece beneath his arm as he made his way over towards the crowd of young aristocrats that Cecily had begun socializing with.

"It's quite mysterious, isn't it? The police certainly must have their hands full," A woman, accompanied by two male companions stated, her voice full of concern.

Judging by the current topic of discussion, William quickly deduced that the group was going over current events. Over the past few weeks mysterious disappearances had been taking place all over London. It was a strange business, and it had him quite worried. Ever since the disappearances began he'd made sure to have his mother return home every day well before sunset. He'd been unable to keep himself at ease without knowing she was safe and sound, and had therefore insisted. William's mother Anne was all he had, and she had become quite sickly as of late. In fact, he would never have thought about attending the party tonight, had it not been at his dear mother's insistence.

"Ah, William!" One of the woman's male companions exclaimed. "Favor us with your opinion. What do you make of these rash disappearances sweeping through our town?"

Glancing over at Cecily, William hesitated. He had not yet spoken to the woman whom he'd spent so much time admiring, and wanted to make a good first impression. Gripping the pad of parchment in his hand, he cleared his throat.

"I prefer not to think of such ugly business at all. That's what the police are for." Holding his head high, he smiled, rather pleased with his answer until he glanced back at Cecily to find her scowling.

Quickly searching for a means to make up for her disapproval, he continued. "I rather prefer placing my energies into creating things of beauty." As if to demonstrate this sentiment further, he raised his pad of parchment.

"I see," The woman's other male companion replied, stepping forward and snatching the parchment from him. "Well, don't withhold, William."

Smirking, the woman nodded her head in agreement. "Yes, rescue us from this dreary topic!"

Startled, William hesitated but then quickly made to move after the man. "Careful . . . t-the ink's still wet," Reaching for his poetry once more only to have it pulled away, he frowned. "Please, it's not . . . finished."

"Don't be shy!" The haughty aristocrat exclaimed. Clearing his throat, he held the paper out high in front of his face as he began reciting William's poetry. _"My heart expands . . . 'tis grown a bulge in it . . . inspired by your beauty . . ."_ Frowning, he reread the final word before finishing. _"Effulgent."_

Although he had wished the man would leave it alone, William quickly became curious as to what Cecily might think of his work. Glancing over at her, he stared, anxiously awaiting her reaction.

 _"_ ** _Effulgent?_** _"_ The man repeated William's choice of wording in disbelief.

Beaming, William began to smile, but only briefly, for it soon faded from his lips when the crowd of partygoers began to laugh mercilessly at him. Quickly taking notice of Cecily's retreating back, William scowled and snatched his parchment from the man. Hurrying away, he tried his best to ignore the harsh opinions and comments that followed him.

 _"That's actually one of his better compositions,"_ One man stated.

 _"Haven't you heard?"_ The woman from earlier guffawed. _"They call him 'William the Bloody' because of his bloody awful poetry!"_

 _"It suits him!"_ The man whom had read his poem exclaimed. _"I'd rather have a railroad spike through my head than listen to that awful drab!"_

Making his way through the crowd, William found Cecily within seconds, sitting alone in the parlor. "Cecily?"

Turning away from the window, Cecily frowned upon seeing that he'd followed her. "Oh," She mumbled, then quickly began fanning herself. "Leave me alone."

"Oh, they're vulgarians," He sighed, nodding back into the direction of the other guests. "They're not like you and I."

 _"You and I?"_ She repeated in disbelief. "I'm going to ask you a very personal question, and I demand an honest answer. Do you understand?"

Nodding vigorously, William smiled as he awaited her question.

"Your poetry, it's . . . they're . . . not written about me, are they?"

"They're about how I feel."

"Yes, but are they about _me_?"

Pausing briefly, he took a deep breath before continuing in a tone of complete confidence. "Every syllable."

"Oh, God!" Cecily exclaimed, placing her head in her hands.

"Oh, I know it's sudden and, please, if they're no good, they're only words b-but . . . the _feeling behind them_ . . . I love you, Cecily _._ "

"Please, stop!" Cecily exclaimed once more, turning away.

Desperate, William continued. "I-I know I'm a bad poet, but I'm a good man . . . all I ask is that . . . that you try to see me—"

"I do see you, that's the problem. You're nothing to me, William." Standing up from the sofa as if to further demonstrate her point, she looked down upon him. "You're _beneath_ me."

Devastated, William watched helplessly as Cecily walked away. Feeling the familiar, salty taste of tears rising in his throat, he quickly stood and left the townhouse where the party was being held. Hurrying away, he tore up his latest poem, shredding the parchment as he stumbled across the cobblestone streets, recklessly bumping into other townspeople along the way.

Stepping into a darkened alleyway, he found a bale of hay perched against a nearby wall and took a seat. Continuing to tear up the parchment, he did so furiously as he felt fresh tears leaking down his cheeks.

 _"What's happened here?"_

Startled, William looked up to find a beautiful young woman walking towards him from the shadows. Her long dark hair fell down to the middle of her back in long, soft curls. Her skin looked lovely, so smooth, and tinged with a beautiful olive tone that he'd never seen anyone around London possess. Although it was certainly one of the greatest cities in the world, London was known for always being cold and rainy. In fact, most of the city's inhabitants possessed a pallor that matched the dreary weather. This woman however, was clearly not from around these parts.

"N-nothing," He began, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. Turning his head away, he tried to hide his face as he dabbed away his tears. "I wish to be alone."

"Oh, now that simply cannot be true," The young woman sighed, moving closer to him as he sat perched on top of the hay.

"That's quite close enough," He stuttered, backing away from her. The woman was beautiful, that much was true, but he found it odd that such a glorious stranger had taken such an interest in him. "I've heard tales of London pickpockets. You'll not be getting my purse, I tell you."

"That's not what I'm after," The stranger purred, swaying her hips back and forth as she inched even closer to him. "I can sense that there's so much more to you than meets the eye. You have spirit; imagination. You dream of worlds others can't even begin to fathom."

Clearly startled by the young woman's insight into his character, William hesitated. Could this beautiful stranger really know what it was he desired? How could she when they'd only just met? No, that was foolishness. He was tired; delirious even after the horrible evening he'd suffered.

"I-I must get home, M-mother's expecting me."

Stepping even closer, the woman slid her hand along William's chest. Stroking his neck, she tilted her head while running her tongue beneath her top lip. "I can show you those worlds. You won't have to write about them any longer. No more make believe, dear William, we'll walk in them . . . together." Breathing softly against his neck, she smiled. "Don't you want it?"

Listening to the woman's enticing words, he hesitated. He didn't even question how it was she knew his name, nor his hobbies — none of that seemed to matter when he looked into her lovely, almond colored eyes. "God, _yes_ . . . "

William had been in the presence of beauty before, Cecily being the first woman he'd ever fallen in love with. But this woman; this strange, exotic beauty. He simply couldn't take his eyes away from her. There was something more to her; something so much more than anything he'd ever seen in Cecily. His fingers itched to grab his pen and begin constructing a new poem devoted entirely to her beauty; her intrigue, but his hands soon found themselves somewhere else entirely as he stroked her neck and chest. He'd never been so intimate with a woman before.

"What's your name?" He asked finally, gazing at the young woman in astonishment.

Grinning, she pressed her lips to his jaw before placing a few more kisses in a pathway up to his ear, whispering her answer. "Katherine."

Threading her long, deft fingers through William's hair, Katherine pulled his head back and buried her mouth into his neck, sinking her fangs directly into the pulse point of his throat. Drinking heavily, she moaned loudly against his skin, her fingers clenching his shirt collar, liquid heaven pouring into her mouth, bathing her tongue, caressing her throat.

"Ow!" William whispered, then more urgently. "Ow, ow, ow, ow . . . " Crying out, he suddenly gasped as he felt the pain sweeping away, slowly being replaced by a warm, delicious pleasure rushing over him instead.

 ** _Katherine . . ._**

* * *

 _Los Angeles, 1992_

* * *

"Mmm," Katherine moaned softly, pulling Spike's head out from between her thighs. He had been attempting to get her to stay with him, but she couldn't be swayed, not even by that sweet mouth. "Baby," she purred, brushing her lips over his. "I have to go, playing at The Viper Room tonight, remember?"

Ignoring Katherine's protests, Spike gripped her wrists and pinned them over her head, pressing his weight down against her in an attempt to keep her grounded to the bed. "You're the lead singer, they can't bloody well start without you," Moving to her neck, he bit her gently, just enough to draw a tiny trickle of blood before sliding his tongue forward to lap it up. "What's one more hour?"

"It's never just _one more hour_ with you," Katherine replied, easily slipping from beneath his grasp in one lightning fast movement.

"Are you complaining?" He challenged, smirking at her with his tongue tucked between his teeth.

"Never," She murmured, bowing her head as if to kiss him but then leaning into his ear instead, pouting her lips. "But playtime's over."

Sliding out of bed, Katherine padded naked across their bedroom floor. Although they had spent their first years in Los Angeles going from lavish hotel suite to lavish hotel suite, compelling anyone who dared question their motives, they had finally decided to settle down in a studio apartment not too far from Hollywood.

Moving over to her vanity, Katherine sat down and ran a hand through her slightly messy hair. At least that was the style these days. The fashion choices these humans came up with, she honestly couldn't believe it. Still, after existing for over five hundred years, it was nice to be surprised every now and again.

Finally giving in, Spike fell back onto the bed with his arms spread, groaning softly. They'd been at it for a little over an hour already, but he could never get enough of Katherine — not since over a century ago when she'd first sired him. She was his goddess; his muse. She'd saved him from a life full of mediocrity, and for that he would forever be her slave.

"That pansy ass bass player," He mumbled, glancing over at her. "He's not going to be there, is he?"

Rolling her eyes, Katherine leaned forward, applying a generous layer of gloss to her full, plump lips. "We've been over this, he's all we've got right now."

"What's the ponce's name again?" He wondered aloud, ignoring her. "Devon?"

" _Damon_ ," She corrected him.

"Pansy ass name," He muttered.

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" Standing, she walked over to a rack of clothes that she'd specifically arranged for tonight's performance. Pulling on a pair of black leather pants, she then paired it with a crimson red, low cut halter top.

"What's there to be jealous of?" Moving behind her, he slipped his hands snuggly over her hips. "I've got the girl."

"That you do," Turning around, she pressed a quick kiss to his lips — a little _too_ quick for his liking — then sat back down and began pulling on a pair of stilettos.

Frowning, he tried not to let her indifferent behavior get under his skin. "Well, I'll see you soon then."

"You're coming?" Katherine asked, a note of surprise in her tone. "Baby, you don't need to come, you've seen it all before."

"I like seeing it," He grinned, but the smile quickly faded when he saw her look away. "What?"

Shrugging, Katherine stood up once more. "I just don't see the point."

Clenching his jaw, Spike narrowed his eyes, repeating her words in disbelief. "You just don't . . . _see the point_?"

"Can we not do this right now?"

"Christ, pet, I'm just trying to bloody talk to you!"

"And I'm trying to get dressed," She snapped, grabbing her jacket and hurrying towards the door. "I can't deal with this shit right now."

Truly dumbfounded, Spike stared after her as she slammed the door shut. Katherine had always been impulsive, bitchy, and goddamn unpredictable, but those were all the things that he loved about her. She kept him on his toes; kept him intrigued, but something was different, something had changed, and he would have been lying to himself if he'd said that this was the first time he'd noticed it.

Pulling on a pair of dark black jeans, he then paired it with a button up shirt and threw his leather duster over it before opening the door and hurrying down the stairs.

* * *

 ** _"If you could only see the beast you made of me . . . "_**

Spike had done his best to avoid the night club where Katherine was singing that evening, but somehow found himself skulking in the shadows, watching as she writhed around on the stage for all to see. Her voice was beautiful, sultry, hypnotic — just as she was. The truth of the matter was, he'd encouraged her to indulge in this new hobby, quite enjoying it himself, but the more it took her away from him, the more he regretted ever doing so. He knew it was selfish, but that was what she did to him.

 ** _"I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free . . ."_**

Narrowing his eyes, he watched as Katherine leaned back against the bass player as he strung away on his instrument. The two were completely in sync, the way Spike had always thought that he and Katherine were. Pressed up against each other, they stared into each other's eyes as they continued to make their music.

 ** _"Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart . . ."_**

As Katherine continued to sing and strut about the stage, Spike watched the look in the bass player's eyes as he stared after her, mesmerized. He recognized that look because it was the same look Spike had on his face every time he indulged in the sight of her. Finally having had enough, he tossed his beer into a nearby wall and exited the back door of the club. He didn't have to stand for this, didn't have to let her string him along like a bloody whipping boy. Not anymore.

 ** _"Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart . . . "_**

* * *

Hours later, Spike returned to his and Katherine's apartment to find the door cracked open. Frowning with suspicion, he pushed it open and stepped forward. Music played in the background, songs sung by a lovely, husky female voice. He recognized it as the same music Katherine liked to listen to. Narrowing his eyes, Spike moved towards the bedroom where the voices were coming from. He knew what he'd find behind the door, he'd smelled their sex from the moment he walked into the apartment, but he had to see it for himself.

Pushing the door open, Spike remained where he was, watching the greedy dark haired bastard as he slid his hands all over Katherine, their naked bodies splayed out across the bed. It was almost erotic, to find her in such a vulnerable position, but the intrigue soon wore off when Spike remembered that he wasn't the one bringing her such pleasure. Within two quick strides, Spike had ripped the bass player off of her, wrapped his arms around his neck, and snapped it in one quick motion before dropping his lifeless body to the floor.

Jumping back against the bed, Katherine hesitated, but then sighed as she looked down at Damon's body. Her expression seemed slightly disappointed more than anything else, but there was no terror; nor regret. More than anything, she seemed annoyed at having been interrupted.

"I was going to get to that part," She sighed once more, sitting up and grabbing her dress from where she'd left it strewn about the floor. "But I suppose you saved me the trouble."

"What are you talking about?" Spike demanded, staring at her in disbelief. He expected her to be shocked, remorseful — hell, he expected her to get down on her knees and start begging for his forgiveness. Once again, Katherine was showing him up with her need to be unpredictable.

"I fed him my blood earlier tonight," She replied simply, standing from the bed and pulling her negligee back on. "It's been over a century since I found someone that I desired enough to turn." Turning around, she stared at Spike, her face expressionless. "You should consider yourself honored for having been able to keep me entertained for that long."

" _Keeping you entertained?_ " He repeated her words in disbelief.

Stepping forward, she slid her hands to either side of his face. "This isn't goodbye, it's just," Sighing, she shrugged her bare shoulders. "I'm just entering a new phase in my life. You should take this as an opportunity for you to do the same."

Staring at her, Spike shook his head. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was more than just a slight, it was the betrayal of his life — far worse than anything he'd ever suffered when he was a human. This was the woman of his dreams; his salvation . . . and she was throwing him away like a child that had finally grown bored of their favorite toy.

"Come here," She breathed, pulling him closer. "For old time's sake."

Ripping her hands from his face, Spike tossed her against the bed.

Throwing her head back against the mattress, Katherine giggled mercilessly, her soft curls bouncing. "That's right baby, you know just how I like it."

But Spike had no intention of giving Katherine any sort of pleasure. He had no intention of giving her anything ever again.

"Fuck you." He spat bitterly, turning away.

"Precious boy," She purred, lying on her side as she watched him. "Do you honestly think you're going to be able to get rid of me that easily?"

Without another word, Spike turned his back on Katherine and hurried from their apartment, not so much as sparing her a second glance back. He knew what she meant; did he really think that he was ever going to be able to get over her? The woman had been his everything for over a century. She was in his heart, his head, his entire system. It angered him to no end that she was tossing that in his face, but what pissed him off even more was the fact that he knew she was right. There was no way he could be rid of Katherine Pierce that easily, but he would be damned if he wasn't going to give it a try.

* * *

 _Mystic Falls, 2009_

* * *

Waking to the sound of her clock radio, Elena Gilbert groaned softly into her pillow. Closing her eyes, she took a few more seconds in attempt to convince herself to get out of bed. Knowing there was no other choice, she let out a defeated sigh, but then smiled when a song she recognized came on.

Bopping her head along to the beat, the seventeen-year-old slipped out of bed with a dance in her step as she moved over to her armoire, pulling her long dark hair up into a high ponytail. Once satisfied, she pulled her cheerleading uniform on next before heading across the hallway to the bathroom.

"Do you realize that I had to wait _twenty minutes_ for Jeremy to get out of the bathroom this morning?" Elena announced as she joined her Aunt Jenna in the kitchen half an hour later.

"Fourteen-year-old boys . . . locked doors . . . yup, that sounds about right," Jenna replied, raising her cup of coffee with a chuckle.

"Ew, can you not?" Frowning with disgust, Elena moved past the various boxes of cereal left out on the counter and went straight for the pot of coffee. "And I've officially lost my appetite. Thanks, Jenna."

"Just telling it like it is," Jenna smirked, but then quickly frowned when she saw Elena pouring herself some coffee. "Hey, don't! It'll stunt your growth and . . . stuff."

Raising an amused eyebrow, Elena smirked.

"Ah, screw it. I don't have the strength. It's a load of crap anyway. Pass the creamer, will you?"

Grinning, Elena grabbed the creamer from the fridge and slid it over to her aunt.

"Good morning!"

Turning at the sound of her mother's voice, Elena smiled as Miranda Gilbert strode into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around her daughter, pressing a kiss to her cheek before lovingly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Morning, Mom," Elena replied with a bright smile.

Although many girls her age didn't particularly have good relationships with their mother's, Elena was the exception. Miranda was her best friend; her most trusted companion. She valued everything that her mother had to say, even when she was too stubborn to admit it.

Feeling her cell phone go off, Elena glanced down to find a text message from her boyfriend, Matt Donovan. Although she knew the natural reaction to receiving a text from one's boyfriend should be sheer happiness and delight, Elena instantly felt guilty from the sense of dread that she felt creeping up instead. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

 ** _Psyched for the bonfire tonight. Blow off family night and come hang with me. I miss you! xxx_**

"Earth to Elena! Come in, Elena!" Jenna called, her hands cupped over her mouth.

"Hmm? What?" Elena replied, quickly looking up from her cell phone.

"Ohhh, is that the _boooooyfriend_?" Jenna exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

Chuckling softly at her younger sister's teasing manner, Miranda shook her head. "Don't embarrass her, Jenn!"

Looking away, Elena sighed, but not out of embarrassment.

"Is something wrong, honey?" Miranda asked, her brow knitting together in concern.

"Yeah, everything's fine, I just . . . " Biting down on her bottom lip, Elena shook her head. No, she wasn't going to talk about this. Honestly, there was nothing _to_ talk about. Matt was perfect for her and she was just being stupid. She needed to get over this, whatever _this_ was. "It's nothing," She lied. "I just feel like Matt and I need to spend more time together, we've both been so busy with school, and after-school football and cheerleading practices."

"Oh, to be young!" Jenna quipped.

Nodding her understanding, Miranda shook her head. "Honey, I know there's a bonfire tonight, everyone around town's been talking about it. Go. I'm sure Jenna won't mind."

Sighing dramatically, Jenna shrugged. "I mean, I'll be a little bummed to lose my Scrabble partner, but I'll survive." Taking another sip of coffee, she continued. "Jeremy will just have to take your place. That is, assuming he ever comes out of the bathroom."

Trying to keep a straight face, it lasted all of two seconds before Elena burst into a fit of laughter, her mother and aunt quickly following suit.

"You're sure?" Elena questioned once the giggles had subsided.

"Of course!" Jenna beamed. "Hell, I only live a couple hours away. You guys have free food, and a working laundry machine. You know I'll be back soon. Go forth, be young and merry!"

Nodding her gratitude, Elena leaned forward to give Jenna a hug before finishing her coffee. Pulling her bag up over her shoulder, she then raised a hand to wave goodbye to her mother and aunt, hurrying away.

"Elena?"

Turning back around, Elena looked up at her mother in surprise. "What's up?"

"You sure you're okay?" Miranda asked, moving towards her daughter, that same look of motherly concern that Elena knew all too well etched across her face.

"I'm fine," She lied. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to her mother's cheek. "See you tonight, okay?"

"Okay." Miranda said softly, staring worriedly after her daughter as she hurried from the house.

* * *

 _Mystic Falls, Virginia._ Spike hadn't been back to his old breeding grounds in quite some time; half a century to be exact. Katherine had taken him to visit several times over the years, but he hadn't returned once, not without her. To say that Katherine had broken his heart was perhaps the understatement of the century, and seventeen years later, Spike still hadn't gotten over her. He passed the time with other women in his desperate attempts to take his mind off of her, but no one had ever managed to hold his attention for very long. One way or another he always found himself thinking of Katherine. He hadn't heard from her since the night he'd caught her with the bass player. The truly pathetic part was, he would've taken her back . . . if only she'd asked him to.

"Alright Mister, I think I'm going to have to cut you off!" The cute, bubbly blonde bartender announced.

Frowning, Spike shook his head. He'd had about six shots — which was more than enough to get an average human drunk — but being a vampire, he needed about twice as much. "Sod off, Barbie. I'm just getting started."

"Look gorgeous, rules are rules," Wagging her finger in front of his face, she sighed. "Why don't you call it a night, go get some food to make the hangover you're going to have tomorrow feel a whole lot less shitty?"

Clenching his jaw, he started to reply, but then stopped himself. _Now, there's an idea._ Smirking, he nodded. "What time do you get off?"

"Are you offering?" She flashed him a smirk of her own.

Clever. He liked this one, and she looked good . . . _enough to eat_.

"What do you think?"

Several minutes later, Spike found himself pushing the blonde up against a back alley wall outside of the Mystic Grill, pressing his mouth over hers.

"Mmm," She moaned, tilting her head back as Spike's lips traveled from her mouth to her neck. The heavy kisses continued over the next few seconds, along her collarbone, dipping into her cleavage.

Lifting his head, Spike stared at her with a grin, his hungry yellow eyes gleaming as his fangs folded down over his bottom lip.

"What the fuck?" She shrieked, her heart race speeding up as she stared at the demon in front of her. "N-no, don't. I-I'll scream!"

"Wouldn't be worth it if you didn't."

Throwing her head back in attempt to flee from him, she only succeeded in making his task easier, for the next thing he did was bury his fangs deep within her throat.

* * *

"Hey, it's me," Elena said softly into the speaker of her cell phone.

"So since you aren't here to help me dominate in Scrabble, your dad is making me play _Pictionary_. I SUCK AT PICTIONARY!" Jenna groaned.

 _"You do, you're terrible,"_ Elena heard her father say in the background.

 _"Bite me, Grayson!"_

"Listen, do you think someone could come get me?" Elena asked.

"Ohhh, having second thoughts about ditching family night, huh?" Jenna teased.

 _"Here, give it to me,"_ Elena heard her mother say in the background. "Elena, is everything okay?"

Hearing her mother's voice, Elena instantly felt her nerves beginning to soothe, but only briefly. "Matt and I got into a fight. He was talking about college, and marriage, and all the stuff that he always talks about, and I just . . . I _couldn't_. . . "

"He doesn't really care about that yet, honey, he's just trying to figure out how you feel about him," Miranda replied comfortingly.

"I don't know how I feel," Elena sighed.

"Yes you do," Miranda replied, not even missing a beat. "You're just too afraid to say it."

"Yeah," Elena admitted softly. "But I don't want to lose him." She knew it was selfish. God she knew it was selfish, but she couldn't help it.

"You're not going to lose him, honey. You're setting him free."

Remaining silent, Elena processed her mother's words.

"Look, we'll come get you right now. I need to get your father away from Jenna for a little while anyway. Things are getting a little too competitive."

Smiling, Elena nodded. "Okay. Thanks, Mom. I love you."

"I love you too, honey."

Clicking her phone off, Elena glanced down at it as she continued to walk aimlessly through the parking lot.

 _"_ _Katherine?"_

Hearing an unfamiliar voice, Elena looked up from her cell phone to find a stranger approaching her from the shadows. His hair was blonde, unnaturally so, and he wore a long leather duster, motorcycle boots, and a very confused expression. As he moved towards her, she got a closer look at his face. His features were sharp; bright blue eyes, angled cheekbones. He was the kind of man that one couldn't easily take their eyes away from.

Glancing over her shoulder, Elena hesitated, then slowly brought her gaze back to his when realizing that there was no one behind her. His face was sad, desperate, and hopeful all at once. It made her want to lie to him about who she was, but then she remembered herself. "Umm . . . no, I'm _Elena_. . . "

Frozen, Spike stared at the woman before him. There had been many times over the years that he'd run into women who looked similar to Katherine; the dark hair, the dark eyes, the curvaceous body . . . but this woman didn't just look like Katherine; she _was_ Katherine.

Only she wasn't.

Narrowing his eyes, Spike hesitated. He was close enough now to take in her scent. Vanilla, lavender, _human_. He could practically taste her blood on his tongue. She was delicious, but she wasn't Katherine. _How the fuck could she_ ** _not_** _be Katherine?_

Finally finding his voice, he shook himself from his daze. "Oh, you . . . you just look . . . " Pausing, he held his hands up in a gesture to show that he meant no harm. "Sorry, you just remind me of someone. I'm Spike."

" _Spike_ ," She repeated his name. "Now, there's an interesting story."

"For another time, perhaps," He grinned.

Instantly taking notice of his accent, Elena became even more curious. "You're not from around here, are you?"

Still trying to get a grasp on what was happening, he paused, but then finally shook his head no. "What tipped you off?"

Smiling, she couldn't help but laugh softly.

"What?" He replied, smiling himself. God, that smile . . . that laugh . . . they were contagious.

"I just find it funny that anyone would willingly come to Mystic Falls."

"It's not all that bad."

"It's not all that good either," She quipped.

Shrugging, he sighed in defeat. "Well, I've got history here." After a few seconds passed, he nodded towards her phone. "Trouble in paradise?"

Following his gaze, Elena hesitated. "Were you listening?"

"Couldn't help but overhear," He admitted, offering her a somewhat apologetic look.

Although this was normally something that would've annoyed her, Elena couldn't exactly be angry with him, and she couldn't explain why either. "I got into a fight with my boyfriend."

 _Boyfriend._ Spike tried not to flinch in anger.

"Anything interesting?" He asked, raising a somewhat curious eyebrow.

"Same old stuff, really: life, future. He's got it all planned out."

"And you don't want it?" He questioned.

"I don't know what I want," She admitted.

"Don't play that game with me, pet," He murmured in a husky whisper, taking a step closer. "You want what everyone wants."

Tilting her head, she hesitated as she felt his sudden proximity closing in on her, quickly feeling a rush of danger and excitement all at once. Biting her lip, she smirked. "And what's _that_? A mysterious stranger with all the right answers?"

Grinning, he shrugged his shoulders. "Well, love, I've been around for a long time. I've learned a few things."

"Mmm," Elena nodded, still smirking. "So tell me, Spike . . . what is it that I want?"

"You want true love; something wild and passionate, and dangerous," Tucking his tongue behind his bottom lip, he continued. "Something that burns and consumes."

Staring at him, Elena hesitated. She'd never been able to exactly put her finger on what it was that she wanted for herself, yet this stranger had done all that and more within a few short moments of knowing her. Trying her best to shake it off, she continued.

"So, what is it that _you_ want?" Eyeing him curiously, she pressed her lips together. "Does it have anything to do with that _history_ you mentioned?"

Hesitating, Spike found himself at a loss for words.

Frowning at her own rudeness, Elena shook her head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have . . . "

"It's alright—" But before Spike could finish, a pair of headlights shown on both of them, the beeping of a car horn quickly following.

Turning around, Elena glanced over her shoulder to find her parents' car pulling up. "That's my parents."

Trying not to let the disappointment show on his face, Spike offered her a genuine smile instead, the first he'd given in decades. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Elena."

"You too," Taking a step towards the car, she hesitated, then brought her gaze back to him. There was something about him, something that moved past the obvious attraction. "You know, I did mean what I said about Mystic Falls being a pretty lame place to live, but now I'm starting to regret putting that thought into your head."

Remaining where he was, Spike stared, waiting for her explanation.

Noting his confusion, she smiled. "What I mean is, I hope to see you around." Lifting her hand, she offered him a small wave as she backed away towards her parents' car. "Good night, Spike."

Smiling his understanding, he nodded. "Good night, Elena."

 ** _Elena . . ._**

* * *

 **A/N:** A little AU never hurt nobody! Hope you guys enjoyed this. For some reason, I've always wanted to write a Spike/Elena crossover. I kind of love the thought of these two together.

 ** _Lyrics: Howl, Florence + the Machine_**


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